


Tribute To Mega Milk

by QuillMind



Series: The Devilman You Love [8]
Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Breasts, Demonic Possession, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mega Milk, Meme, Nipple Licking, Other, Pregnant Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 10:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13522407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: A friend got you a certain t-shirt as a gag gift to celebrate you being pregnant with Akira's child.  Your body is changing constantly, so you do appreciate having more wardrobe options, but then you get an idea to have a little fun at Akira's expense.  Thing is, your Devilman does not take kindly to false advertising...





	Tribute To Mega Milk

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: _"I just want a scenario where reader walks in with a new t-shirt and ask “hey akira do you like my new shirt?” And it’s the ‘mega milk’ shirt. Akira sweats so badly ‘cause now he wants milk but knows reader would get mad if the new shirt got ripped to shreds. [bonus if reader was pregnant when wearing the shirt]"_
> 
> If these D:C headcanon requests I've been getting is any indication, people are REALLY into domestic/daddy Akira, boob-lover Akira, and in particular, breastmilk guzzler Akira. I find no problems with this.

It had started from a simple joke.  

Following the announcement of your pregnancy, a friend had gotten you the famous-in-certain-specific-circles Mega Milk t-shirt.  Laughs were had all around as your friends said in sing-song voices that you were going to become a walking drink bar, and at the time you’d rolled your eyes and laughed with them, downplaying their teasing.  After all, some women didn’t get very big when pregnant.

But as it turned out, fate really liked to pull the rug out from under you.

Before long, the shirt had become all too real in its message as your bust increased in size.  Your friend had gotten you one size larger than what you normally wore, but that was clearly too modest an assessment of your projected growth.  The material was stretched taut across your breasts, showcasing them as one suggestive, curvy package.  

(In retrospect, you felt the odds were fairly good that your friend had gotten you the size she had for exactly this scenario.)

Akira had not yet seen this shirt.  Bad timing and having to deal with some particularly nasty demons and humans alike in another country had taken him away from you for a few weeks, and it was in that time that you’d gotten this little growth spurt.  A cheeky idea occurred to you.  

When Akira finally returned home, you quickly leapt into his arms before he had a chance to say anything, making sure to press your body tightly against his.  While you pretended to be the sweet and loving mother-to-be greeting her lover and her child’s father, you could tell by the sudden way Akira stiffened and tensed that he noticed something  _ very _ different.  

“Akira?  Is something wrong?” you asked, pulling away from your hug to look at him.  He was so shocked by your chest and the shirt that encased them that he couldn’t even try to hide where he was staring.  

“Uh…”

You smiled and took a step back.  “New shirt,” you explained.  “Got it as a gag gift at the little baby shower my friends threw me.”  Tugging on the hem and swinging your hips from side to side, your demeanour mimicked that of a playful child, except the parts that Akira was focused on were anything but, swaying tantalizingly like ripe fruit.  

“It’s kind of silly, but it’s one of the few shirts that actually fit me right now,” you continued casually.  “Well, fits  _ better _ , anyway.  But the material’s really soft and nice, and the seams inside don’t itch or irritate me.”  

You cupped your breasts in your hands and squeezed them slightly.  From your peripheral vision, you noticed Akira swallow.  

“They just got so big all of a sudden, and I’ve been too tired and busy to bother getting new clothes.”  The Mega Milk letters warped and stretched as you squished your breasts together, kneaded them, then lifted one, then the other, up and down.  

Akira’s hands clenched into fists, and his lip curled back to reveal sharper-than-average canines.  You knew he probably wanted to pounce on you right away but was holding back to prevent himself from ruining yet another piece of your clothing (a hard habit of his to break).  

You shook your head and frowned down at the two little points poking through the white cotton of your shirt.  “Nnh,” you winced with a bite to your lip.  “On top of getting heavier, they’ve also gotten sensitive.”  

How much further could you push him?  

“I had to stop wearing a bra because they’re just so uncomfortable.  Maybe I should just go without for the rest of the pregnancy—“

It was like something out of a nature show, when a lion went from completely still to explosive action, lunging out to capture its prey.  A similar feral snarl erupted from Akira’s throat as he pinned you to the wall, holding you slightly above the floor by lodging his leg between yours so that you were sitting on his thigh.  He held your wrists above your head and grabbed the hem of your shirt, but instead of turning Mega Milk into Swiss cheese, he calmly raised his hand so that your breasts gradually spilled out in a decidedly lewd manner, bouncing in front of Akira’s face.  

Your heart was pounding.  Akira’s mouth was open, and you could feel his scorching hot breath on your naked chest.  His eyes were glassy, transfixed.  

He bent his head to lightly bite your nipple.  Your back arched and your legs bent and trembled, hips rolling against Akira’s thigh.  The high-pitched gasp you made was muted by him jamming the bunched up shirt in your mouth, and his now free hand dove into your shorts to curl into your wet heat.  Yielding whines saturated your shirt along with saliva.  There was a few seconds’ reprieve before his mouth filled itself with you again, kissing, licking, and sucking.  

Your whining rapidly became needier, and your lower body shamelessly ground onto Akira’s hand and leg.  In the far reaches of your mind, you might’ve heard/felt him give a sinister chuckle as he created a constellation of hickeys on your neck and breasts.  

You came before you knew it, clenching your thighs tight and banging your head against the wall.  The crumpled shirt fell from your mouth, resting on your collar.  

Akira noisily popped his lips off your breast and gazed at your flushed, ecstatic face.  “You don’t have any milk yet, huh,” he said flatly.  He didn’t look like he was expecting a response, which was good since your mind was nowhere near as sharp as it needed to be to form sentences.  

Demonstrating a speed and dexterity that would’ve made acrobats and magicians impressed, he slipped your shorts and panties off of one leg and undid his jeans.  Releasing your hands, he found a solid stance and hooked his arms under your thighs.  

Still dull-witted thanks to your orgasm, you glanced down to only then finally notice Akira’s cock positioned right above your eagerly drenched opening.  When you looked back up at him, his expression was abjectly devious, his voice a deep, erotic purr.

“Guess I’ll have to give you some of mine.”  

He stuffed the shirt back in your mouth again just as he plunged all the way inside of you.

**Author's Note:**

> The Sabbath party never stops over at [Tumblr!](https://quillmind.tumblr.com/)


End file.
